Cardboard
The other day I was helping some friends move and as I left, wished them a good night in their new house. My family moved a lot when I was little and I used to look forward so much to that first night in a new house. My friends moved almost everything over in just one day, but when my family moved, it was a long process. The movers came and packed everything, we’d stay a day or to (or more) longer and clean, and then there was the long in-between time during which we might go to another state to visit family before we move out of the country, or camp on our way up to the new state, or go live in a hotel for a while, while awaiting the move-in or completion date of our new house. After living out of a suitcase for a couple of weeks, it was always nice to get into the new house, even if it meant sleeping on an air mattress for a few nights. The best thing, though, was moving-in day. Boxes and furniture would come in a steady stream from the big moving van. One by one boxes would be opened and treasures would be unearthed from under layers of brown packing paper. It was a relief to have all my things back under one roof. Finally, familiar books sat on the shelf and pictures took their place on the floor, leaning against the wall on which they would soon be hung. Once the movers left and the night crept in, the boxes with comforters and other bed linens would be opened and the bed would be made for the first time in the new home. I’d get showered clean and then tiredly crawl into bed. Depending on the length of the moving transition, all our things had been in boxes for at least a week, and maybe up to a couple of months. No matter how long they had sat in boxes, the sheets, pillows and blankets always smelled of cardboard that first night. I would go to sleep breathing in that sweet smell, knowing that once again I was settled, I was safe and secure, and that tomorrow would begin a new adventure.
posted by Alyene @ 2:32 PM
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